


Before the Party

by WildandWhirling



Category: 1789: Les Amants de la Bastille - Various Composers/Attia & Chouquet
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/F, Sexual Tension, So Much Sexual Tension, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:33:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24999883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildandWhirling/pseuds/WildandWhirling
Summary: Soléne finds herself distracted as she tries to help Olympe get ready for an event.
Relationships: Solène Mazurier/Olympe du Puget
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Before the Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Claradwor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claradwor/gifts).



> Drabble Prompt: "Zip me"

“Help me with this?” A wave of honey-brown hair shifted as Olympe nudged her head at the zipper that split in a V at the base of her back. 

“Sure.” Soléne didn’t know what it was for-- one of her boss’ high society things, she lost track. 

Fingers stilled as they tugged at the zipper and--was she sweating? They weren’t able to grasp it properly. It might as well have been an icicle. 

It was stupid. They _lived_ together. It wasn’t _new_. But, being behind Olympe, the breezy perfume she’d just dabbed on her neck flooding Soléne’s nostrils, every breath of hers shifting Soléne’s hand...it felt like it. 

Her index finger slipped, running against bare, burning flesh, goosebumps rising in the wake. A muted gasp from Olympe, her back flexing beneath the touch, pearl earrings swinging back and forth with the motion, eyes remained firmly fixed ahead of her. It had been the first thing Soléne’d learned: Olympe du Puget looked unshakeable, but touch her with something as light as a feather and she’d melt. 

Soléne was a good girlfriend. 

She wasn’t going to take advantage of this to tell Olympe to screw the party and spend the next hour or five in bed. She _wasn’t_. 

Slowly, determinedly, she tugged the zipper, one hand following the path of the other woman’s body, the other brushing Olympe’s soft hair to the side, leaving a clear path to the finish.

“Th-Thank you,” Olympe gave a flustered smile. 

Soléne buried her head in Olympe’s neck in response, pressing a kiss to her throat. “Don’t be long.”

Before Olympe could respond, Soléne pulled away, offering a teasing smile when Olympe turned at the sudden lack of touch. 

  
Hey, just because she was a good girlfriend didn’t mean that she was a _saint_.


End file.
